Sandra Belloni — Complete eBook

“By the way, Sir Twickenham called, and wished
to see you,” said Arabella curiously.

“Oh! so weary!” the fair girl ejaculated,
half-dreaming that she saw herself as she threw back
her head and gazed at stars and clouds. “We
met Captain Gambier in town.” Here she
pinched Arabella’s arm.

The latter said, “Where?”

“In a miserable street, where he looked like
a peacock in a quagmire.”

Arabella entreated Wilfrid to be careful in his management
of their father. “Pray, do not thwart him.
He has been anxious to know where you have gone.
He—­he thinks you have conducted Mrs. Chump,
and will bring her back. I did not say it—­I
merely let him think so.”

Wilfrid had been silent. As he entered the house,
Mr. Pole’s bedroom-bell rang, and word came
that he was to go to his father. As soon as the
sisters were alone, Adela groaned: “We have
been hunting that girl all day in vile neighbourhoods.
Wilfrid has not spoken more than a dozen sentences.
I have had to dine on buns and hideous soup. I
am half-dead with the smell of cabs. Oh! if ever
I am poor it will kill me. That damp hay and
close musty life are too intolerable! Yes!
You see I care for what I eat. I seem to be growing
an animal. And Wilfrid is going to drag me over
the same course to-morrow, if you don’t prevent
him. I would not mind, only it is absolutely
necessary that I should see Sir Twickenham.”

She gave a reason why, which appeared to Arabella
so cogent that she said at once: “If Cornelia
does not take your place I will.”

The kiss of thanks given by Adela was accompanied
by a request for tea. Arabella regretted that
she had sent the servants to bed.

“To bed!” cried her sister. “But
they are the masters, not we! Really, if life
were a round of sensual pleasure, I think our servants
might congratulate themselves.”

Arabella affected to show that they had their troubles;
but her statement made it clear that the servants
of Brookfield were peculiarly favoured servants, as
it was their mistress’s pride to make them.
Eventually Adela consented to drink some sparkling
light wine; and being thirsty she drank eagerly, and
her tongue was loosed, insomuch that she talked of
things as one who had never been a blessed inhabitant
of the kingdom of Fine Shades. She spoke of ‘Cornelia’s
chances;’ of ’Wilfrid’s headstrong
infatuation—­or worse;’ and of ‘Papa’s
position,’ remarking that she could both laugh
and cry.

Arabella, glad to see her refreshed, was pained by
her rampant tone; and when Adela, who had fallen into
one of her reflective ‘long-shot’ moods,
chanced to say, “What a number of different beings
there are in the world!” her reply was, “I
was just then thinking we are all less unlike than
we suppose.”